


Wrong In The Dark (I Can't Help But Be)

by FrozenHearts



Series: Magnus Bane's Magical Menagerie Of Menaces & Friends [3]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, But it was announced that Chris Pine plays her love interest named Steve Trevor, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Heartbreak, Her movie hasn't come out yet, I am guessing when it comes to Wonder Woman, Lost Love, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Post Wonder Woman (2017), Pre Batman v Superman, Vampire Simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6437713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenHearts/pseuds/FrozenHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana Prince, after living for five thousand years and being on earth for ninety-eight of them, finds herself in Brooklyn, New York, battling an other-wordly creature as she tries to find an old friend and a lost love.</p>
<p>The Shadowhunter gang don't exactly know what to make of this warrior queen that shows up at Magnus's loft broken and lost. She also seems to have mistaken Jace for someone named Steven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I fell in love with Wonder Woman after seeing BvS for a second time, and decided that since Diana prince has lived for 5000 years and Magnus bane has lived for at least 500 years, the two are old friends possibly? Maybe? It's just an idea, one that I happen to love, so here you go!
> 
> This one is gonna be a multi-chapter, unlike the other parts of this series, which are just one-shots.
> 
> Enjoy!

Twenty-sixteen.

Ninety-eight years since Diana had come to Earth. First Belgium. Next, Gotham. Then it was Metropolis.

Now it was Brooklyn. Brooklyn, New York. Why she was here, she didn't know. It didn't really matter, however, as the goddesses of her world never gave her a true plan to begin with. All she was told, as queen of her people, was to protect the innocent. To provide justice and fair ruling. During her time on Earth, she knew she would not be able to offer the same divine judgement bestowed upon her in Themyscira.

What she learned was that man was volatile. Man was unforgiving and cold. Yet she had seen that they were fragile.

So what was she looking for? Amidst the gutters of Brooklyn? Monsters of unimaginable size? Slithering sea creatures? A mugger?

Diana laughed as she skulked in the shadows. Maybe she'd find the Devil Himself. Hell incarnate. The night air was cool against her skin as she walked, her boots damp as she tramped through puddles of mud and gutter water. Her sword hung in its sheath on one hip, her lasso on the other. Dark hair flew behind her like a cape, and Diana wished that she kept it with her.

Alas, love had taken it from her. And she was determined to get it back as soon as she had a monster to slice and hack through. It had been too long since she'd waged battle, she realized, as she wandered from city to city, dressing in fancy clothes and playing coy with a series of suitors. Making friends through the ages. The warrior smirked as she remembered one friend in particular, a Magnus-Something, as he had called himself. It was in London, 1857 to be precise, when she had met the sparkly man. She couldn't remember his last name, something starting with a "B."

"Sparkly" may not have been quite the word to describe him. Sure, she remembered he gave everything a certain shine, but she hadn't seen him in years. He was probably dead by now. As she strolled to a stop at the mouth of an alley, she tried recalling the details. Obviously, he was a man, with golden skin; Diana remembered him as being Asian. In her mind, everything about Magnus-Something fell into place, save his eyes.

She knew they were green, just like the Kryptonite she had learned of back home. A mineral on a distant planet that dared to kill the people that lived upon it. She had met one such man, and his home was the very cause of his demise. The very planet was toxic to those who chose to embrace it, which was much like humans on Earth. They destroyed the ones they loved. Slowly. Piece by piece until they wondered- what happened?

Even after being here for ninety-eight years, Dana had a few things to learn about humanity. Heaving a sigh, she leaned against the red brick wall of an apartment building, eyes darting around. Her suit was chafing against her thighs, her skin tingling as she sank to her knees, the rough bricks scratching her back until she was sitting in a puddle of dirty water. The unitard was snug, but in this weather, she wished the goddesses had given her a pair of pants, or at least some sleeves.

She wished she had her cloak. But Steven had taken it with him.

It made her wonder; where was he now? Diana laughed at herself, the sound echoing in the dark alley, bouncing against dumpsters to escape the night air. Steven was probably ninety-eight right about now. Living with an old lady and sitting in a rocking chair. Diana knew he deserved a good life. All of her love for him couldn't save him, however. She could remember his features perfectly, though. Pale skin that burned easily in the sun. Windswept blond hair, blue eyes that were as deep as the oceans surrounding Themyscira. A laugh that held the light of the stars. A voice that rumbled through her bones and buried itself deep in her heart.

Diana drudged herself back to her feet. Her arms ached, but for some reason, she unsheathed her sword. Hefting the weapon in her right hand, she cast her gaze down the alleyway, creeping forwards, at the ready. A brisk wind blew by, giving her bare arms gooseflesh. She advanced though, nearly tripping as she heard it. A low growl, just to her left, a little bit away from the dead end of the alley.

A lamppost flickered next to one of the buildings, and in the quick flash of light, she saw it. A large black mass, roiling and slithering against the cracked pavement. At first glance, it looked like a river of oil, slick under the musty streetlamps. But it moved with sharp angles and rough jabs until it formed a sort of skeletal structure, a crumbling set of charred bones with the mysterious liquid serving as skin, dripping and rotting away as it moved. It struck her that this should not be here. This thing should not be on Earth, amongst humans.

Humans waged war on themselves, they didn't need this monster to do that for them. She walked away from the humans' war a hundred years ago. But then, she had wanted this, hadn't she? to fight for lack of fighting, to fight for lack of something better to do. To fight for lack of love and friends. For loneliness, all these years. Widening her stance, Diana raised her sword. The blade shone like that of a thousand suns, and for a moment, it was like she was little again, her mother handing the very sword she was wielding. For a moment she was back in London, having tea with Magnus-Something in a small cafe, talking as old friends would about trivial matters.

For a moment she was back with Steven.

A gutteral cry erupted from her throat as she charge, blade slashing. The creature merely dodged, baring a pair of fangs, teasing as it carelessly swiped at her. Diana leaped backward, almost falling on her backside as she skidded across the cement. Her hair flew in her face as she whipped her head up, narrowing her eyes at the thing.

Diana remembered something Lex Luthor had told her at a party. Lex Luthor was a psycopath of a man, having planned the demise of the entire world, but his words were one of a wise-man.

"If man will not kill God, the Devil will do it."

Diana knew that being not of Earth, having the powers blessed upon her that she did, many viewed her- viewed Wonder Woman- as a God among Men. The Devil was of their own creation. The Devil was in their hearts, the darkest corners of their minds. The Devil was their words, every action they made, broken promises. The Devil was in blue eyes and blond hair, in chaste kisses and stolen cloaks.

The Devil was right in front of her. The Devil was this slithering black creature that sat in this alleyway and Diana was going to have her way with him.

\------

Jace felt his heartbeat race as he ran alongside Clary. The night air was cool against his cheeks as they moved. The streets of Brooklyn, he realized, had never been so quiet.

He hadn't planned on going on a mission tonight either. Demon activity had been relaxed as of late, with the war having just ended; everyone was trying to get back into the swing of things. Trying to repair their homes and rebuild their lives. Jace knew it had been especially difficult for Alec, no matter how strong the parabatai bond they had.

Alec had kissed Magnus. In front of the Clave, in front of Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike. In front of their parents.

Really, Jace knew he should have known that Alec was gay, or that he was dating a Downworlder. When they were younger, Alec was never able to keep a secret to save his life. he was a stickler for rules and more often then not, Jace found himself admiring how adamant Alec was when it came to being a Shadowhunter. Like it was an honor, some sort of privelege to be born into this world.

He learned once he met Clary that the world offered nothing but death and destruction.

After Alec had kissed Magnus, officially coming out, Maryse and Robert were less then happy. Jace knew Alec needed all the support he could get; the night before the final battle, he had been a mess, blubbering and snot-nosed and it pained Jace to see his parabatai like that. Saying things like "I'm so useless" and deciding that he didn't care if he lived or died during the war. That he had given up. And Jace saw that Robert Lightwood, the man who was supposed to be Alec's _father_ , agreed with the sentiment.

Isabelle was the one who helped him pack a bag for Magnus's shortly after. Jace left him with a hug, and in that moment, he hadn't wanted to let go. Alec needed him and he needed Alec. He and Isabelle still visited him at Magnus's loft, having sleepovers every other week, and once Isabelle started dating that Mundane Clary was so fond of, he and Clary started coming along too.

Their family was slowly building itself back up, stitching itself back together.

"Jace, do you remember where Izzy said the demon was?" Clary's voice broke through his thoughts and they skidded to a stop. He looked left. Cars were parked along the block, red and black and silver. Lamp lights flickered overheard, creating sporadic shadows along the avenue. He looked to his right. A dark alleyway, a single light dimmed at the very end. A set of dumpsters were illuminated in the yellow glow, framed by red brick buildings. Jace tightened his grip on his seraph blade, the weapon casting an eerie blue-green glow against his skin as he pointed it down the alleyway.

"Over there," he said with finality.

The alleyway, Jace decided, was disgusting, but so were many other alleys in Brooklyn. It came with the territory, he supposed, smelling like must and piss, puddles and rivulets of dirty gutter water lining the street. Jace focused on Clary's hair as they charged down the alley, seraph blades poised, ready to bite. Clary's hair was a like a beacon- so red it was orange, fire licking her skull to dance down her back and light up her face. It was one of the first things he noticed about her, and she looked more beautiful each day.

They made it half-way down the alley when Clary stopped short, causing Jace to topple into her. They crashed to the ground, a tangle of arms and legs. Clary's seraph blade clattered to the cement, skittering a foot away from her outstretched hand, "Crap!"

"Sorry, Clary," Jace got on his knees, helping her up as he grabbed his seraph blade. Clary shook her head, brushing pebbles adn dirt from her Shadowhunter gear.

"It's okay," she said, "I just thought-"

Clary froze, her head whipping around to face the alleyway. Jace raised an eyebrow, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Things like this always happened every now and then- a side effect of the war. Everyone was on edge, and Jace understood why. Sebastian Verlac- no, _Jonathan Morgenstern_ , the Devil Himself in more ways then one- had crushed the Shadowhunting world under his boot as if they were bugs. Everything was a mess because of him. Clary was jumpy because of him. Simon lost his memories (even if they had come back by now, and he and Isabelle were happy and safe) because of him.

Alec was an utter mess because of him. Magnus, too. Jace was familiar with Isabelle waking him up in the middle of the night because she was scared of what lurked in the dark. She hadn't been afraid of the dark since she was six and he and Alec were seven and eight. In the mornings, after having sleepovers at magnus's place, he would find Alec and Magnus wrapped around each other, looking afraid to let go, even as they slept. 

Being a vampire, Simon would stay up and keep watch, God looking down on his creations, protecting them from the things that went bump in the night.

The irony was not lost.

So when Jace felt Clary's thin fingers dig into his arm, with the unearthly screech wailing into the night, he figured he could blame Jonathan Morgenstern for this demon attack. Blame him for messing up a nice night and causing trouble. What they heard instead, however, surprised him.

It was a battle cry, that much he knew. A woman's voice screaming, not in pain, but in vigor, as if she had been prepared. Clary went and retrieved her seraph blade, walking slowly towards the ruckus, only to ump back as a large black mass was tossed like a rag-doll against one of the green dumpsters. Jace tensed; he didn't think it would be anything like that- maybe a Drevak demon or a rogue Downworlder (no matter how much he hated having to deal with them). Anything but Argramon.

Anything but the Greater Demon of Fear.

Jace cursed under his breath as the yell came again. A Shadowhunter was already on the scene. Someone at the Institute must have gotten the call before Isabelle did. They must have managed to track it down. From the sound of it, she was alone. They couldn't see her, however, as she was hidden from view by one of the walls.

Until she wasn't.

Clary was the one to notice her first. Jace had been transfixed by the abomination that was sliding around in front of them as it charged at the Shadowhunter....

"... That's _not_ a Shadowhunter!" Clary exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the woman as she seemed to soar through the air, a sword raised above her head. Long dark hair flew around her face, and she seemed to be wearing some sort of leather and gold costume. Argramon seemed to shy away from this woman's blade, an odd thing for a Greater Demon to do. Jace cocked his head, watching as the woman grunted and tried again, succeeding only in burying her sword into the dingy dumpsters. Clary cleared her throat, "Jace, that's Argramon, right? The Greater Demon of Fear?"

"You want a pop quiz _now_?!"

Clary elbowed him roughly, watching as the woman grabbed the hilt of her sword and tugged. It didn't budge, lodged into the metal as if clinging to the edge of a cliff. Jace knew what Clary was getting at, though. Argramon had the ability to morph into a person's greatest fear; Jace experienced that firsthand. It was something no one should live through, but it was something you never forgot. It lived with you forever, sulking deep within the crevices of your mind, striking out when you least expect it. Already, Jace could see the demon gathering itself, and Clary's grip tightened on the sleeve of his jacket.

Jace dug his phone out of his pocket, fingers fumbling as he dialed a number, any number. The Institute, Magnus, Isabelle, hell, even _Simon_ would do at the moment. They watched with bated breath as the woman abandoned her sword, flinging herself out of the way as Agramon sent a tentacle her way. A crevice was created where she once stood, and Jace saw her reach for something at her hip.

That was good, Jace realized as he listened to the phone ring, that was good. She was ready for a fight. She had backup.

"C'mon, c'mon, _c'mon....!_ " he muttered into the receiver, the other line now on its fifth ring.

"What is she doing?" Clary's voice was soft, barely a whisper, "I don't think I've seen any Shadowhunter use that in battle before."

Jace snorted, "You were the one who pointed out that she's not a Shadowhunter. And she has a sword."

"Which is stuck in a dumpster."

Jace knew she had a point. He also knew now was not the time to argue. Finally, after what seemed like forever, someone picked up, and Jace wanted to cry with happiness. The woman looked strong, but he wasn't sure if she would hold her end by the time more Shadowhunters arrived to help. He almost moaned into the phone, " _Thank the Angel_ , who am I talking to?"

"Jace?" Isabelle sounded worried, "I thought you guys were finished with the mission. Did Clary convince you to go to Taki's?"

An unearthly roar emanated from Agramon as the woman tossed some sort of.... _rope_ at it, yanking hard as it started to glow. The Greater Demon struggled against it, screeching to the heavens until Jace was sure even Alicante could hear the cries of the beast. But it was obvious that the rope was glowing, emitting a bright golden light that seemed too pure to be real, too innocent. The woman was David to Agramon's Goliath, this magical rope being her slingshot.

"N-No, Izzy," Jace gulped as they watched the woman loose her footing, never letting go of her weapon, "Clary and I went to the demon sight like you said-"

"Oh! So you're almost done then?" Izzy said cheerfully, "Good, because Magnus is cooking dinner, and he didn't kn-"

"Izzy!" Jace snapped, "It's the Greater Demon of Fear! It's fucking _Agramon_ and-"

Silence. The dial tone was fuzzy through the speaker. He could here footsteps in the background, frantic talking and then she was back, all business as she demanded, "Where are you?" He told her. Sweat beaded on his skin, and he didn't realize his pits were damp with persperation until he hugged himself. Worry was evident on Clary's face. Jace knew she was thinking of ways to try and help; that was who Clary was, she helped people. But what could she do? Yes, she had technically saved the world a few times over, but she didn't have any proper Shadowhunter training. According to the Clave, she was a beginner, a child just learning to walk.

"Izzy, before you hang up, someone's already here," Jace added hastily, his words rushed as he watched the woman yell in Agramon's disgusting face, pulling on her end of the rope until she had the Greater Demon tied up tight. Its tentacles squirmed, pushing against the bonds, spewing black poisionous ink in her direction haphazardly. If any of it hit this woman-

Too late.

A spray of black hit her squarely in the face, and Agramon took the incentive to jerk the rope back, the woman losing her grip and flying towards them. Clary and Jace jumped out of the way just in time, slapping the wall of the building with enough force to splinter the bricks. The woman howled with pain, and Clary gasped aloud. Steam twirled upward as it burned her, but Jace watched in astonishment as the woman almost ripped it away and flung the goop to the ground, leaving it to singe the sidewalk.

And then she charged right back at Agramon as the demon transformed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabelle and Magnus go through one of Magnus's old photo albums.
> 
> Diana sees Steven while battling the monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, chapter two!

Everything burned. Her limbs ached and her heart pounded against her rib cage.

The Devil was good, but not as good as her.

Her sword had managed to get lodged into the dumpster, so Diana resorted to her lasso, assuming that even a thing as slippery as this had to abide by the laws of physics somehow. It didn't matter how slippery it was, waving it's tentacles and spewing black sludge every which way; it had to have a physical body, and her Lasso of Truth was her last option.

That was when she got hit in the face, flying backwards to skid down the alleyway.

Diana was vaguely aware that people were with her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of black clothes and red hair to her right, tucked against the wall of the building. She was holding some sort of sword, glowing a bluish-white in the dark. That's odd- Dana didn't know weapons other than her lasso could glow like that, and if she wasn't fighting this monster, she'd ask right there what it was.

And that's when it started to change.

It was slow at first, just a blob that seemed to expand with the more icky black stuff it collected, crawling along the ground to get scooped up by the quivering tentacles. Diana was slightly relieved that Themyscira didn't have monsters such as this. If she was struggling now, who knew what would happen to the entire race of Amazons? Her skin burned where the black liquid had splashed her, the roar of the demon echoing in her ears, rattling her brain around in her skull.

She wondered if it was a good idea to ask the red haired girl for help, as she heard her gasp quite loudly.

Suddenly, as she collided with the ground, body burning and throat dry, she was very tired. It had been years since she had been in a battle such as this. With everthing on the line, even if this technically didn't count as one of her fights. Diana couldn't let the humans deal with this, though, She couldn't let that red haired girl get hurt. Her joints creaked with protest as she drew herself up slowly. The black mass was discombobulated, twisting and turning in on itself. She could see the slime sticking to the poorly made skeleton, the colors changing from an angry black to a sort of milky beige, a deep yellow.

Well, that was new.

Diana shook her head. Now was not the time to get distracted. She was lost, she was more than likely injured, and she had gotten herself into this fight. She was going to end it. Right here, right now. Then she realized: she didn't have any weapons left. Her sword was plunged into a metal forge, her lasso tossed aside like scraps. Panting, Diana stared down the creature. The Devil.

Fists would have to suffice.

Letting out a war cry, she went to race head-on at the monster, fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms, bracelets twinkling with malice as she raised them to meet the monster's head, to block any tentacles sent her way-

-only to falter at Steven.

Steven Trevor had spontaneously appeared. In an alleyway in Brooklyn. Diana lowered her arms, furrowing her brow. Memories flooded her brain, and she struggled to stop completely, crashing to her knees before him. He was wearing the same brown adventuring suit he had when she last saw him, the same hate resting atop his blond locks as she stared into his familiar blue eyes, full of warmth and love and death and destruction.

It always came back to destruction. Diana remembered her friend, that Magnus-Something telling her another thing that was similar. But Steven wasn't like that, all glitter and warnings and smiles. Steven was love, he was hope, he was volatile-

And he was here. Somehow, after ninety-eight years, he was _here_.

But so was the Devil.

"Steven?" she asked hesitantly. Steven merely cocked his head. Diana gulped, "Steven, it's not safe, you have to _go_ -"

Diana knew that the smile Steven put on was different. It didn't fit, marring his features until it twisted into a mockery of what she knew was supposed to be a smile.But Diana couldn't move. She stared up at him, as he smiled that grotesque smile. Why wasn't he running? Did he want to die? Did he not care? The monster was still here, somewhere, she knew it! What was he waiting for?! Dirt and bits of gravel scratched at her bare knees as she reached for him, yanking him to the ground so they were eye-to-eye.

"Steven!" she shouted, "Stop this! Run!"

Steven didn't say anything. The smile remained, and Diana thought it seemed to grow, splitting his face in half. Cracking the heavens apart, stars raining down to make craters in the Earth. The black goo she had torn from her person was scuttling towards the monster, still sizzling as it entered the light. Diana lashed out with her bracelet as it wriggled toward Steven. He merely sat, smiling at her, smiling _through_ her.

"Come on, we can go to my friend's house!" Diana said in a rush, gripping Steven's wrist and pulling. He didn't budge. She tried again, "Steven, please! You remember my friend, my friend Magnus-Something! He can help us!"

Nothing.

Diana felt tears dot the corners of her eyes. This was wrong, this was _all wrong_. Steven was finally here, but he wasn't doing anything, and she hadn't managed to kill that thing. It was probably running rampant and it was all her fault, yet Steven wasn't cooperating and-

A low growl made Diana let go of Steven's wrist, his hand falling limp at his side. Gritting her teeth, Diana stole a quick peek towards the dumpsters. Her sword was still buried hilt deep in the garbage, flies buzzing around the dying light of the street lamp. But there was nothing there. Diana looked to her right- the girl was still there. Why, she had no idea. What exactly was she waiting for? Diana had taken one step when she heard it again, this time flying away from Steven as a slim black tentacle shot towards her. Crashing hard, Diana blocked the things advances with her bracelets, " _Steven!_ "

She was lunging forward just as teh tentacle was wrapping itself around Steven's neck, and Diana was suddenly jerked back, stumbling as she momentarily lost her footing. No. No, this wasn't fair. Diana swiveled around to reprimand the person- it was most likely the red haired girl, the one watching- "Stop, let me-! Let me go! Steven needs my help! It's going to kill him-!"

"That's not Steven!"

The voice was male, which surprised Diana. Glancing down, she could see the hands that held her were to large to be female, bruised knuckles and black ink decorating the skin. Tendons pressed against skin as his fingers curled around her bracelet. A bit of the black goop stained her arm. It burned her skin, steam twirling skyward. The man seemed adamant.

"That is not your Steven," he repeated, "The Greater Demon is just confusing you-"

Diana was surprised that her voice was hoarse, "Greater Demon? Those don't exist on my world."

The man almost growled at her, and Diana wrenched her arm from his grip. Greater Demon. There was no such thing. If it didn't exist on her world, jow could it exist here? Had humans condemned themselves so early?

"I am a warrior, a queen where I'm from," Diana spat, her vision blurring slightly, "don't tell me I'm confused!" Diana picked her head up to face this arrogant man, fury burning in her veins. She was trying! Steven needed her help, he was probably being killed by this so-called "Greater Demon" right now. He was.... he was....

...standing right in front of her. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she took him in and all the fight jusy seemed to dissipate, leaving her aching and sore.

But Steven was back with the monster. Yet he was also right in front of her. Diana shook her head, voice wavering, "H-How-?"

Steven raised an eyebrow, looking down at her since he was a food few inches taller, "How what? I'm sorry, I-"

The Greater Demon roared behind them, demanding attention. Diana ignored it, focusing on the man in front of her, all dressed in black. She noticed swirling black lines across his arms and one peeking out of his shirt on his neck. She didn't remember Steven having any tattoos, but when years go by, she knew he'd want to have a bit of fun. It was only fair.

" _JACE! LOOK OUT!"_

Before Diana could react, she felt a sharp tug in her abdomen. Looking behind her, she saw the Greater Demon lashing out with a tentacle. Steven was gone, and the red haired girl was screaming.

Steven was screaming too.

"Oh,  _fuck, Clary!"_ he cried, and Diana thought the name was pretty. It sounded like a fairy's name, a fairy with sparkly wings and a pretty blue dress made of flower petals. Out of the corner of her eye,  Diana saw the red haired girl ran towards them.

She seemed to be very good at the whole balancing act, leaning sideways as she moved, turning upside down...

Diana looked at Steven once more. He looked scared. That was not okay. Steven didn't have anything to be afraid of. She was here now. She'd protect him and his red haired friend.

"Steven.... you're  _here._ "

Diana toppled into his strong arms, the last thing she saw being a tentacle sprouting through her stomach, black liquid dripping decadantly down her legs.

\------

"Mags, you keep a photo album?"

Magnus looked up from the book to see Isabelle shuffle in, arms crossed over her chest. Magnus smiled softly, beckoning her to sit on the couch. Ever since the war, Isabelle was a light sleeper, more often than not he found her with Simon on the couch, the vampire humming a lullaby as she slept with her head in his lap.

That was one of the pictures he had in the album, actually. He had little moments like that tucked away in his book- Clary painting Jace's face to make him look like a lion, Alec asleep in one of his chairs, a half-open book dangling between his long fingers. Small things he deemed important, which was everything. 

Isabelle plopped herself down, making the hot pink cushions sink deeper under their weight, "Can I see?"

Magnus flipped to a new page, full of black and white images. A few had yellowed over tje five hundred years of his life, others were crinkled and curling at the corners. But he still remembered them like it was yesterday. Isabelle pointed to one, "Is that you? You have no glitter!"

Magnus looked at where finger was. In the top righy corner was an image of three people, two men and a woman, dressed in Victorian garb. The woman was in a black dress, her hair done up immaculately, while the two men stood on either side of the chair she sat in.

That's an old portrait of Ragnor, Camille and myself," Magnus explained, "back before Camille became the evil bitch you know and love today." 

 Isabelle grunted, running her finger along the inside spine of the book, "Are all these from before you met Alec?" Magnus nodded, flipping through a few pages until he stopped at a portrait of a beautiful young woman. She was wearing a gray dress with a sheer front, a collar buttoned all the way to her chin. A bustle made her skirt larger, and a pair of boots peeked out under the hem. Her brown hair was done in soft curls, framing a delicate face.

"This is Tessa," Magnus explained, watching as Isabelle examined the picture. It was taken during the 1800's, Magnus recalled. He and Will and Jem had decided to throw a small party that ended in spectacular failure. Magnus tucked a strand of hair behind Isabelle's ear, "William, James, and I, we tried throwing a birthday party that year."

"I take it it didn't end well?" Isabelle giggled.

"William swore to singe James's eyebrows off if he ever thought about handling matches again," Magnus laughed. It was one of the many moments he remembered, anything that Tessa laughed at. She had a beautiful smile, as showcased in the photo, beaming up at the sun with her head thrown back.

"She's pretty," Isabelle sighed, lingering for a moment, turning the page carefully. Magnus could see old runes on the back of her hands, faded to thin white scars.

"So are you, my dear," Magnus put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder, and Isabelle leaned her head on his own.  

The next few pages were landscapes, places around the world. France and Germany. Lithuania and Indonesia. China and Spain.

Magnus made sure to skip over Peru.

It wasn't until they reached England that Isabelle jabbed a finger at the page. Chairman Meow hissed from across the room. Stupid cat.

"Now I see where the glitter started," she said, eyes roaming until they fell on a young woman. She was standing with Magnus and another young man, in what looked like an explanation outfit. Magnus was his sparkly self (obviously it was more subdued than now, Isabelle realized), but the other two had their arms around each other. The other man wasn't even looking at the camera, instead looking at the woman as she smiled straight ahead.

"That was taken in London, I think 1857 or so," Magnus grinned. "They had just started experimenting with clothes, thabk goodness. After a few hundred years, brown is just drab."

"These two are warlocks too?" Isabelle said, "Since Tessa and the others are, I'm just guessing." Magnus raised an eyebrow, studying the picture. He knew he recognized them, but couldn't recall much. He pointed to the man, "I remember, he was definitely a Mundane. He had the Sight, though."

Isabelle nodded. It was rare, but sometimes, Mundanes could posess the Sight and not be allowed to become Shadowhunters. Magnus had heard tales of hopeful children excited to bear Marks only to be turned away by the Silent Brothers. It didn't seem fair, but then again, the world wasn't supposed to be fair. There was no such thing.

Isabelle squinted at words that had been scrawled underneath, "London with Steve and Diana, eighteen fifty-seven. Was she a Shadowhunter then?" 

Diana. So that was her name. Magnus didn't even remember writing it down, but there it was. As he looked, it came back to him. The couple had been traveling around theworld, starting that year in England. They had planned to finish their tour in Belgium, then go to America and settle.

It had seemed silly, when they first told him, but Magnus was young then. At least one hundred years old. Magnus stole a peek at his and Alec's bedroom, the door cracked ajar. He could see his muscular form tangled up in the blankets, one of the lamps turned on to cast an orange light against his head.

"Alec is still sleeping?" Isabelle asked, turning to look.

"He'll be fine," Magnus assured her, "just needs some rest."

They all did. War was never easy on the body, on the psyche. On anyone. Alec most of all. He was about get up and check on him when Isabelle's phone buzzed. 

"It's Jace," she groaned, checking the caller I.D. Magnus grinned, "You want something to eat? Alec went shopping the other day and we haven't had dinner yet."

"Okay," Isabelle flipped open the phone, pressing it to her ear, "Jace?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's curious, Chris Pine is set to play Steve Trevor, Diana/Wonder Woman's love interest on the upcoming 2017 movie. That's why he's in this story and that's why he's in the tags as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabelle opens the door to Magnus's loft to find Jace and Clary dragging a strange woman with them.
> 
> Magnus recognizes and old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three! Yay! I honestly didn't think people would like this story, but guess I was wrong because I'm still writing it!

_Someone's already here._

That's what Jace had told her before yelling to Clary, a string of curses following her name with a few "By the Angel's" and "Stay with me, lady! Open your eyes, c'mon!" Isabelle demanded where he was, but he wasn't paying attention. She could hear Magnus banging around in the kitchen, but she didn't bother asking why he didn't just magic the food with them. Alec had been trying to teach him how to cook properly lately, and Isabelle found it fun to see what he made.

Clary could be heard on the phone now too, her sharp cries piercing the tinny speakers so harshly Isabelle had to clap a hand over one of her ears. Hanging up would have been the smart thing to do. Hanging up would have saved her from currently listening to Clary and Jace try to save a stranger's life. Finally, after she heard the woman suddenly shout in pain, Isabelle ended the call, letting the phone hang limply in her hand.

"So I thought we could do panca-" Magnus was saying, pausing in the doorframe as he saw her, staring blankly at the television, "Isabelle?"

Isabelle stared at her reflection in the screen. She looked gray, although she couldn't help that that was the color of the glass. She was aware of Magnus approaching her, placing hesitant fingers on her arm. Her shoulders tensed at how soft his voice was, when compared to Clary and Jace's shrieks.

The strange woman's desperate cry of agony.

"Izzy?"

 Isabelle swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, "It's the Greater Demon of Fear, Magnus.... I thought, I th-"

Magnus's cat eyes narrowed as Isabelle tried her best not to cry, although it was proving to be difficult. Carefully, he pulled her into a soft embrace, her cheek pressed against the scratchy material of his night shirt. For someone so flamboyant, Isabelle thought he'd wear satin or silk to bed, not sequins and whatever else the shirt was made of.

"It's okay, darling," Magnus murmured into her hair, "They'll be home soon, and we'll patch them up."

Isabelle sniffed, "I know, but it still sucks. Sometimes, I wish I was a warlock like you."

It had been a spur of the moment thing. Isabelle knew it wasn't the best thing to say, Magnus stiffening into her hug, but being the gentleman he was, Magnus merely sighed.

"Immortality isn't all it's cracled up to be." he made a flashy gesture, his rings glittering as he twisted his fingers. Isabelle could smell the pancakes from the kitchen, mouth watering at the thought of downing a plate of butter bread and sweet syrup.

As she sat herself on the couch, a bang sounded, making her jump. The whip on her wrist started to uncoil, slithering over her knuckles to rest comfortably in her palm.

"Should I get it?" Isabelle looked over to Magnus. His fingers were splayed as he eyed the door, blue flames dancing on his fingers. Isabelle felt her heart pounding, temples throbbing as she heard indecipherable screams, desperate and pleading. The bangs were like drums, the steady tick of hands on a clock.

For a moment, Isabelle thought it was Argramon, come to attack. Maybe Abbadon. You could never tell with demons. 

Magnus was gliding forward, his left hand reaching for the knob. He gave her a knowing look, "At my signal."

Whip placid on the ground, she nodded. Alec was in the bedroom. Alec was getting much-needed and much deserved sleep. Alec had beenat the mercy of Abbadon before and Raziel be damned if she was going to let it happen again.

Being with Magnus was Alec's first time truly being happy, and Isabelle was going to do her damndest to make sure they were safe.

Magnus's eye makeup glittered menacingly as he tilted his head, taking one step forward, almost lunging as he flicked his wrist. 

Ichor was the first thing Isabelle smelled as Jace and Clary surgef inside, collapsing under the weight of an unconscious woman in Magnus's living room. 

Fuck.

 ------

Everything was a blur. Isabelle had Clary sitting on the floor, looking visibly shaken. Jace looked ready to introduce his fist to Magnus's wall. The woman was priority, however, and it wasn't doing anyone any good if she bled out on the new shag carpet Magnus purchased last week.

With a flick of his wrist, Magnus sent waves of blue flame towards the woman as she convulsed, long black hair obscuring her face. He could hear Clary panting hard as they watched her levitate to the couch, her body plopping almost lifeless on the cushions.

"I need a wet cloth, warm water," Magnus ordered, tenderly moving the hair out of the woman's eyes. A golden crown of some sort was wrapped around hrr head, matching the gold on hrr costume. Magnus paused, fingers hovering over her nose.

She seemed familiar. But how?

The woman coughed violently, a black goo bubbling from her lips. Shit. Not good, not good-

"Here's the rag," Clary was soft as she ran back in, "Izzy is filling a bucket."

Magnus stole a peek over his shoulder. Jace was still on the floor, face ghostly as he tucked his knees under his chin. Greater Demons of Fear did that, Magnus supposed. Forced people into shells of themselves for the time being. His blond hair was stringy with sweat, knuckles turning white. Isabelle came through the living room, placing a bowl of warm water on the coffee table. It was a bowl Alec had purchased one day after complaining that there were no clean dishes in the loft. Magnus only ever saw Alec use it for cereal or soup.

Jace coughed, an ominous sound in the strained silence that befell them, accompanied by the woman's whooping coughs. Demon poison splattered her chin and neck, staining the cushions and her outfit. Her skin was pale as the moon, her eyelids fluttering every now and then; every time, Magnus found his heart skipping a beat. When she let out a shallow breath. When she gasped in pain. When more blackness spurred forth from her lungs, ejecting itself onto his couch.

No way was this woman dying on him. Not with Jace hysterical. Not with Isabelle comforting a frantic Clary. Not with Alec sleeping safe and sound in the next room, Magnus was not going to have him wake up to more death and destruction. Clnching his jaw, Magnus cleared his throat. He could feel his magic draining him. If he used anymore, he might just pass out.

"D-Darling..." Magnus crouched next to the couch, "Darling, I need you to open your eyes for me."

The woman's head lolled, chin pointed at Magnus's chest. He took it as a sign that she was at least coherent. That was a good thing.

"Can you do that for me?" Can you open your eyes?" Magnus repeated, enunciating each word carefully.

"Is she okay?" Clary piped up. Her red hair was tangled and windswept. A few dead leaves clung for dear life among the fiery strands. Magnus grimaced.

"Please open your eyes for me?" Magnus was practically begging, but he was grateful that her breathing evened out. He waited with bated breath as her eyes roamed beneath their lids, until finally she managed to blink.

Magnus found himself staring into the funnels of a storm. Her eyes were an icy gray, full of strength and daring. There was something oddly familiar about these eyes, and Magnus tried to remember as he said, "Listen carefully, I'm Magnus Bane-"

The woman blinked once. Twice.

"Bane..." she murmured, "Magnus Bane..." 

"Yes, yes I am, but I need you to st-" Magnus furrowed his brow, ending abruptly as he watched her. She watched him back.

A slow smile crept across her face. The demon poison was matted on and between her teeth, "I knew it started with 'B.'"

Magnus exchanged a look with a bewildered Isabelle. How did this woman know his name? Granted, he was in high demand in the Shadow world, as well as amongst Downworlders. But this woman was not a Shadowhunter- maybe she had the Sight?

The woman coughed, her chest heaving as she mumbled something. 

"Magnus?" Isabelle said, but he ignored her.

"How do you know my name?" Magnus demanded, his voice level. It wouldn't do to have an outburst along with a dead body. The woman sighed, a sheen of sweat on her skin.

"I must be dead," she whispered, "first Steven, now  _you._ "

Magnus scrunched his nose. Where had he heard that name before? It really wasn't appropriate, Magnus knew, as he turned to Isabelle, saying, "The photo album, where is it?"

Isabelle complied, grabbing the book from where it fell. A few of the pages had been bent on the way down, but Magnus ignored the creases, flipping through the book rapidly. First the woman, now the name. Magnus was aware of Clary and Isabelle boring daggers into his back as he finally found the page.

London, eighteen fifty-seven.

Magnus turned to the woman, breath hitching in his throat.

"Diana?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof-a, this chapter was kind of difficult for me to write. But I did it! 
> 
> (I'm gonna go start City of Glass now, but the next chapter of this is in the works!)

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be up soon!


End file.
